


Who wants to live forever?

by evaherondale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Universe - Twilight, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaherondale/pseuds/evaherondale
Summary: Marcus Flint moves to Port Angeles to live with his father. At the local high school, where he goes for his senior year, he meets Draco Malfoy, also a senior, who it seems wants nothing to do with him but who keeps saving his life anyway. Twilight/Midnight Sun AU.





	1. The Bastille (Marcus)

The temperature in Port Angeles was a significant alteration in comparison to the heat of Phoenix. Marcus missed that much about it already, had for the time he’d been at his dad’s place before school started. As he’d discovered, what constituted cold in Arizona didn’t compare to the chill that swept Washington. Winter in Port Angeles seemed to mean grey skies and constant icy sleet, people preparing themselves against the worse weather probably still to come.

One of Alex Flint’s first typically practical remarks on his arrival had been, “I got you a truck so you can get to and from school, but you might want to get some snow chains on your tyres soon.” The surprise had obviously shown in his expression, because his father had flashed an amused smile. “You didn’t think I was going to have you move out here and not have a way to get about, right?“ It was a reminder that Marcus hadn’t needed; compared to Phoenix, Port Angeles wasn’t quite the middle of nowhere, but it wasn’t far off. Despite that, he’d been touched by the fact his dad had even thought of it. It hadn’t been a short drive from Seattle-Tacoma airport to Port Angeles; by the time they got home, Marcus had been exhausted and ready to crash in the nearest available spot. He’d called with his mom the next morning, texted her to let her know that he landed fine, and tried not to let the pang hit him of how much he missed her. _You left for a reason. You did the right thing_. His mother was a free spirit, always apt to wander, and he wasn’t about to be the reason that she felt chained in place. A week later and ready or not, school was starting up, and Marcus had transferred to Port Angeles’ local high school. _Joy_. To say that he wasn’t looking forward to it understated the matter. It had nothing to do with the school itself, and everything to do with being the new person in amongst a group of people who had grown up together. He’d been through it before when his mother decided to move them to yet another new place, and he didn’t relish having to do it again, even if he’d made the choice himself this time.

It meant that when Marcus finally got finished in the office and had received a brief, cursory tour, he moved towards his first class with utter reluctance, since he’d missed registration that morning due to his meeting to select classes. His transcripts had arrived from his old school, and he had a text from Adrian telling him _good luck, not that you need it_ that made him smile a little before he took a deep breath and went in. He wasn’t late, but it felt like literally everyone else was there before him, because almost everyone’s heads turned to stare at him, including the teacher. _Why is everyone staring? Is it the tan or just my face?_ It felt like he was some kind of new and exotic zoo animal, because people seemed to watch his every move. He was thankful that first class was English in light of that rather than something that would immediately require group work, and doubly grateful that he got sat next to a girl called Susan, whose kind demeanour set him immediately at ease.

At the desk in front of them, there was a quick-tongued and incredibly friendly boy called Terence, who took about five seconds to introduce himself and ask the first of what would be many questions that day. “So, you’re Chief Flint’s son, right?”

That had made Marcus immediately a little self-conscious. _Did everyone know I was coming or something?_ He guessed that was what came with the territory when his father was the police chief in a small town like this. Everyone knew everyone. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Terence grinned at him, leaned back in his chair and turned his head, seemingly to be able to look at him better. “No idea why you’d come here when you lived somewhere like Arizona. What’s it like there? Must be hotter than here, with that tan you’ve got there.” Right after that, it felt as though he was being looked at even more closely, and that made him flush and shift in his seat. He didn’t do well with that. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a lot different.” Thankfully, Susan chose to intervene at that point and swatted Terence’s arm. “He’s been here all of five minutes, Terence. Try not to question him to death.” Her voice was dry, and it made Marcus grin a little, set back at his ease. When Terence eventually turned back around with a wink in his direction that left him wondering what was going on, she smiled at him. “Fair warning, the rumour mill is way ahead of you. You’re going to get this for at least the next week, so be prepared.”

As it turned out, that was an understatement, and it was Susan along with Terence that made the first couple of classes bearable, because people _stared,_ and he didn’t know what to do with it. He got that a new person from out of town was maybe a bigger deal here in Port Angeles, but it left him nonplussed. _Surely they’ve had transfer students before?_ Following on from that, lunch was overwhelming and noisy, a deluge of Terence and Susan’s friends surrounding him at the table with question after question about Phoenix and himself. He wasn’t used to it, didn’t know how to answer half of what he was being asked. Friendly though he was capable of being, he couldn’t check the gratitude when the conversation shifted instead to what everyone had been up to the previous weekend. Rather than talk, he could listen and get a feel for what life in Port Angeles might actually entail outside of school. Apparently, it was a whole lot of hiking even when the temperatures threatened to drop below freezing, which made sense given the nearby mountain ranges, and fishing, which he’d known from his father’s persistent love of it. It transpired that Terence’s parents owned the local hiking and camping supply store, a place that Marcus had passed once or twice since his arrival but never been in. He already had hiking boots from Phoenix, used to rich, rolling stretches of desert and late nights camping with his friends in warm temperatures. He had the feeling that meant something different here in Port Angeles. As it turned out though, the group he was with had all been down to the beach after walking by the creek, something they promised to show him before he’d even thought to ask.

After lunch, he had history, which both Terence and Susan took at a different time, and that meant heading there alone. What he hadn’t realised was it was at the opposite end of the building he was in, so remembering how to get there proved to take longer than he’d hoped.

The teacher seemed surprised to see Marcus at first as he stood uncertainly in the classroom doorway, and a few people’s heads turned in his direction. “Sorry if I’m late, but I’m new,” he said politely. _And this is incredibly awkward, predictably._ The teacher’s expression cleared after that, clearly putting together his appearance with previous information somewhat belatedly. “Ah, yes. You must be Marcus, welcome.” What had been a few people looking his way suddenly turned into almost everyone whispering and looking around at him with disconcerting interest. “Please come in, take a seat.”

Marcus scanned around for an empty seat. There wasn’t one at first glance. _Great_. Except then his eyes landed on the only empty seat in the entire room, next to an incredibly striking boy with pale blond hair, and he was directed there by the teacher, whose name he learned was Professor Binns. He sat down, directed a small smile at him before settling in and hunching his shoulders forward a little. It was almost a relief when class began, because at least then he could focus on the events of the French Revolution, taking notes (out of habit more than need) and very much try not to dwell on the fact he thought the boy next to him was striking. _Not what you need to be thinking about._ Despite that, he couldn’t help stealing glances every so often, and each one only seemed to give him a new detail that affirmed his first reaction. Although the hair had been the first thing he noticed, he caught briefly the colour of the boy’s eyes and a flash of high cheekbones, enough to make him curious and want another look.

Eventually, the teacher told them to discuss briefly the fall of the Bastille, which Marcus had already covered in his program in Phoenix a while ago and considered relatively basic. Despite that, he turned a little to the boy beside him after a moment’s hesitation. “Hi, I’m Marcus,” he introduced himself, a shy note to the words despite the straightforward address. “Sorry if I took up someone’s usual seat and they’re not here.” Because he honestly couldn’t imagine anyone not taking the invite to sit here, if they were asked.

It was a few lingering seconds before Marcus got any sort of reply, because during that time the pale-haired boy was looking at him as though he’d suddenly developed a painful headache. Before he could ask what was wrong, the expression was gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Marcus to conclude that his first observation of the other had been correct. _Devastatingly handsome_ barely covered it now that he had the full view. _Don’t get your hopes up_. It turned out that was a good call a moment later when the boy spoke. “Hi,” he said, seeming to pause before he said it, as though he wasn’t sure whether to respond or not. That was odd, until the explanation that followed. “I always sit alone, unless I have a class with one of my siblings.”

Suddenly, it became quite clear that Marcus had invaded a space that was deliberately kept that way. “Oh. I get that. It’s easier to concentrate that way, or at least, it is for me.” It was a way to shift away from the fact that the boy obviously hadn’t wanted company of any kind. Even if he got the message, a disappointing one but nonetheless loud and clear, he didn’t have anyone else to ask his questions of. _Tough._ He cleared his throat a little. “Is today a recap, or is this the first time of covering this in class? I didn’t really get a chance to ask when I arrived.” That was an understatement, since the professor hadn’t seemed overly concerned with telling him what had already been covered in case he had to catch up.

At least this time, the other boy didn’t hesitate to answer him, eyes that were the shade of a pre-storm sky, dark enough to be grey fastening on him specifically. It was a nerve-racking sensation. “This is the first time they’re covering this in class. Apparently, this is what they see as challenging material. I’m pretty sure there’s one pair already discussing the band instead of the prison. They’d do much better describing the horrors of the French Revolution instead of teaching it as a victory of democracy.” The underlying tone to the words held something like annoyance, and for a moment Marcus was at a loss to determine whether it was directed at his question or at other people’s inability to comprehend the French Revolution. The question itself wasn’t unreasonable, so it had to be people being idiots.

“I already covered this a while ago, and if you don’t find it challenging, you probably know more about it than I do.” That was met with a shrug, and for a second Marcus was under the impression that was all that he was going to get, and that this would quite definitely be the first and last time they sat together. He was resigning himself to that fact until the other boy suddenly spoke again. “Every historical event has at least four sides, I think. What we learn in school is the one most fitting in our current society. Since we value democracy so much, this version of history zooms in on it. Plus, since it did establish a first form of democracy, albeit very temporarily, historians like to forget about the blood.”

The articulate way that the other outlined his thoughts on the matter only intrigued Marcus further, something that he knew was probably a mistake. _He’s made it very clear he doesn’t take to company, you’re not going to be an exception._ Slowly, he mulled it over, relieved to not be answering questions about himself for the first time since his arrival that morning. “I think overlooking the blood is a mistake,” he said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “You’re obviously right concerning the democracy, but the price paid for it shouldn’t be forgotten.” The other frowned a moment later, made Marcus wonder what he'd said wrong. “It’s always forgotten,” he said. “That’s how historians change history to make sure it can be taught in high school.” After a pause, the boy seemed to catch himself, as though he’d made a mistake. “Sorry, I have three older siblings. When they talk about something, I need to get myself involved to prove I know things too. I researched it a lot.”

That made sense, and Marcus was quick to respond. “You don’t need to be sorry. This might be the most refreshing conversation I’ve had all day.” And with someone who knew their own mind and didn’t seem to feel the need to cluster in a group to validate himself. Yes, that was quite different. Even if it would probably be the first and last time they sat together. “I mean, I’m an only child, so that’s different to anything I know. You must be pretty close with your siblings, but it doesn’t sound like you have anything to prove.”

When the corners of the other boy’s lips curled upwards, just a little, Marcus couldn’t help but be a little pleased. “I like reading and I have a good memory. I suppose that does help.”

Right after that, as though to lend credit to the words the other spoke previously, he could hear two people arguing about their favourite Bastille song and whether the band had broken up. Marcus rolled his eyes heavenward without thinking and then checked himself quickly, realising what he’d done. What he saw then was unexpected: a slight but definite grin on the blond boy’s lips, indicative of amusement. What was even more unexpected was what followed; an actual introduction. “I’m Draco,” he said. “Draco Lestrange. Do you want me to say _welcome to Port Angeles_ or have you heard just about enough of that by now?”

It took Marcus a moment to place where he’d spotted Draco before, and when he remembered, it also took work not to redden a little. Casting his gaze around the tables during lunch, he’d spotted the family of extraordinarily attractive brothers and sisters together, all looking completely at ease. He hadn’t dared ask who they were at the time, simply watched from a distance out of interest despite the constant questions. Now he’d met one of them, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. That left politeness, accompanied by a brief, uncertain smile. “Pleased to meet you.” When he asked about welcome to Port Angeles, though, Marcus wrinkled his nose without meaning to. Realising what he’d done and how it might come across, he hastily explained himself. “I don’t think a lot of people realise that I’ve been to Port Angeles before. I mean, my dad lives here.” The only reason he hadn’t been around for the past few summers was because his dad had flown to Phoenix instead and stayed in a rented house for a couple of weeks. It was good for him to get some vacation time in, so Marcus hadn’t protested.

Draco’s reply confirmed what had been mentioned to him only briefly. “I think the problem is that no one has seen you around lately. I get it. My family and I moved here a couple of years ago. People wouldn’t leave us alone, at first.”

It was a piece of information that Marcus filed away without quite meaning to. _So definitely not local or just from another city. Further out maybe._ “I guess it’s strange to me because I’m used to just being…not invisible, exactly, but part of things? Anything else just feels awkward.” He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, because privately he could understand why people wouldn’t leave Draco and his siblings alone. “I don’t really stand out much, so it’s strange to have people offering to show me where everything is and asking questions.” He definitely hadn’t in Phoenix, anyway, and he had faith that soon enough it’d be the same here.

“People are trying to be nice. They’re also no doubt being repetitive and not very smart about what they say. You’re new, though, so they’re going to talk to you.” It was a relatively point blank response, and Marcus shrugged a little. “It’s meant well. I mean, everyone’s been nice, but at least four people offered to show me where the library was.” Including Terence. “You…can’t really miss it.”

It was clear that Draco understood that from his expression, because the library had a huge sign and was in plain view on entering the school. “I take it that you don’t like Port Angeles very much?”

Marcus shook his head a little, because that wasn’t the case. “I don’t dislike it. I chose to come here.” He paused before giving further explanation, startled to realise that he’d talked more to the one person who appeared to be mostly disinterested in him than he had to anyone who had asked numerous questions. _It figures._ “My mom and I moved around a lot before we settled in Phoenix, so it’s just jarring starting over and being the new person when I didn’t think that would happen again until college, maybe.” There was more to it than that, but he wasn’t going to get into it, with Draco or with himself. “I’ve had a couple weeks, but I think it’ll take time to get used to it. Was it the same for you?”

Professor Binns interrupted with the announcement they were going to continue with the class because it seemed that everyone had grasped the finer points of the discussion. That told Marcus what he’d already suspected: he hadn’t even been listening to any of the pairs. It did put an end to any further conversation, though, since the remainder of the class consisted of more taking notes and the teacher occasionally calling on people to ask questions when he thought they weren’t paying attention. As it turned out, most of the class wasn’t paying attention, and Marcus couldn’t concentrate either because he could feel how tense Draco was sat beside him. He also noticed that there was no attempt to take any notes; his notebook wasn’t even open.

When the class finally came to an end, Marcus didn’t have the chance to say anything more. As soon as the bell rang, Draco was out of the door without a backward glance. As he gathered his stuff into his bag, he couldn’t help but wonder what just happened.


	2. Getaway car (Draco)

Draco skipped French. That wasn’t as uncommon as it sounded, because he tended to get frustrated with French class and, acting like a normal teenager for a change,  decided that he didn’t need French class every now and then and just didn’t attend instead. What was odd about the entire ordeal was that he usually let Zacharias, his adoptive brother, know beforehand that he wouldn’t be attending French. Draco’s company was the only thing that could get Zach through a French class according to Zach, which meant that both brothers were either both there or both not there. This was the exception that Draco didn’t think was going to happen.

Instead of  at French class, Draco spent the entire last hour of school in his silver Volvo with the windows open, trying to stop thinking of the subject that was all that he could think of. He left Rodolphus, his adoptive father who he guessed was in surgery, three panicked voicemail messages, and he tried to make himself stay put and not go after Marcus Flint, who was currently attending his last class as well. He found out fairly soon Flint was at Physics. It didn’t matter what Marcus Flint was attending and how easy it would be to get to him, though. He had to stay put.

He was pretty sure he couldn’t do it. As if high school wasn’t enough torture as it was (for his brain due to the boredom, alas), he was presented with the most tempting scent of a human being that he had smelled in his entire and very long life. It was as though Marcus Flint existed solely to torture him and to make him question his morals.  Draco thought perhaps it was a test of some sort to see how he would do resisting human blood with someone smelling as good as Flint presented to him. He was failing. All he wanted was Marcus Flint’s blood. He didn’t care about the other or about his morals. It proved what he had known since he was turned: that, in their very essence, creatures like him were created to give into their impulses.

It was towards the end of the hour that Zach left him a text message.  His brother was terrible at holding a grudge and trying the silent treatment for someone who lived as long as he had. He couldn’t stay mad at Daphne, his soulmate, for more than five minutes as far as Draco knew and he had lasted less than an hour now. ‘Where are you? You know I hate French. And I also hate the French when they’re acting like this.’

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes for no one to see before he replied.  It apparently hadn’t occurred to his brother that something may actually wrong and that he wasn’t leaving him in French because he simply wasn’t in the mood. ‘I’m in my car. Get here with the others ASAP before I murder something.’

Zach’s reply came unsurprisingly fast. Draco imagined that he was texting while he was supposed to do an assignment about French verbs or something else that Zach simply didn’t bother with. ‘What do you mean before you murder something? Did something happen during your history class? Is that possible?’

Well, maybe he was starting to use his brain after all if he could jump to something of a correct conclusion. ‘Just hurry up,’ was Draco’s only reply. He put his phone back in the pocket of his dark coat and simply waited, fingertips tapping against the steering wheel in a too fast and unsteady rhythm. He needed to get out of here and needed to find his father before he did something he may or may not regret later. He couldn’t tell if he would. As it turned out the not-knowing was actually worse than the knowing he would do what he swore he wouldn’t do any more.

It didn’t take his siblings – Daphne, Zach, Luna and Neville - long to show up after the school bell rung. For a change not one of them was in the middle of a discussion with one of the others or busy with themselves. Usually Daphne was busy with herself and Zach and Luna were engaged in conversation about some subject Draco didn’t care for. This time Zach told them what text he had gotten from Draco and he could see from their thoughts that he was being looked at by all of them even before they all got into the car. It meant that he could see how distressed and annoyed he looked from four different angles and in four different interpretations, none of them particularly helpful.

The moment that Zach, the last one to get into the car, sat down Draco accelerated. Zach still had to pull the car door closed behind him. He drove away from the school’s parking lot at a way too high speed and had already reached the speed limit by the time he reached the turn away from the parking lot. He didn’t bother to slow down in the turn and accelerated even more instead, going way over the speed limit.

“You insane maniac,” Daphne complained almost immediately after she asked Zach if he was okay. Of course he was. “The humans are watching us. What is wrong with you?”

 Draco didn’t look at her. He also didn’t respond. He had his eyes focused on the road and didn’t even slow down momentarily to check if there was any traffic when they approached a junction. His hands were folded around the steering wheel and it cost him conscious effort not to pull it out of the car because of how tight he was holding on. He needed to build in some distance between him and the temptation that was Marcus Flint as soon as possible.

“Draco?” Luna, who was sitting beside him in the passenger’s seat, gently tried to get his attention. Still no reply. She laid her hand on his arm, making him flinch immediately. Luna saw it as a sign that he needed his space and pulled back. Instead she tried to get his attention by directing her thoughts at him. _Draco,_ Luna insisted in her thoughts. _If you’re not going to talk I’m going through your future to see what’s wrong._ That was what he needed her to do anyway. He needed to see whether or not he was going to kill Marcus Flint. He doubted if she knew it any better than he did, but he needed every bit of information that he could get.

Draco was driving through the town of Port Angeles at a speed twice the speed limit while Luna closed her eyes to concentrate, at all appearances completely relaxed. The three in the backseat were a lot less at ease, though. Draco was sure they picked up on the silent conversation between Luna and him, but that didn’t mean they understood what was going on.

“They’re doing that thing when they communicate without saying anything,” Zach observed what everyone already knew. “We need to know what’s going on too.”

“Sht,” Neville said. “I don’t think he’s capable of speaking right now. He’s so agitated. Draco, can I -”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned Neville. He of course knew what his brother was going to ask – if Draco would let him calm him down – and he didn’t want the help. If he was going to kill Marcus Flint he was going to do it completely consciously and not while feeling a fake version of calm that made him relax and maybe even enjoy the kill. Sometimes he was thankful for Neville’s ability to influence how he was feeling, but today was not one of those days.

“He speaks,” Daphne said snidely. She was annoyed because it was completely unclear to her what was going on and because he was, in her mind, deliberately not telling her. It wasn’t that simple, but Draco knew from experience that Daphne often thought too simplistic of situations.

“Shut up,” Luna and Neville said at the same time. The two of them realized that what happened must be pretty bad if Draco was reacting this way and that annoying him further was of no help.

 Seconds later Luna found his future and Draco was brought into a home he had never been in before. It was chief Flint’s house. It seemed like the house hadn’t been redecorated since early in the 2000s if the wallpaper and the furniture was anything to go by. That was the only thing that Draco registered because the future version of himself laid eyes on Marcus Flint after climbing the stairs in the hallway. Marcus was doing homework in his bedroom and had no idea that Draco just broke into the house. Draco approached the human slowly and it wasn’t until he closed the bedroom door behind him that Marcus noticed. He jumped up from his chair, eyes wide. He was like a deer caught in headlights, seconds away from an unmerciful death. Draco smiled widely at him, a baring of teeth, before zeroing in on him and going in for the kill. He did know one thing: fake calm or not, he would enjoy it. He would also regret it afterwards and hate himself for enjoying it.

“Luna!” Draco yelled at her. That vision was giving him bad ideas.

“Sorry,” she said serenely. “Are you leaving?” How could she ask him that when she just saw him kill Marcus Flint in a vision of the future? Seeing the future may be subjective, but Luna’s vision only confirmed what he had been afraid of.

“Am I leaving?” he returned the question through gritted teeth as his car passed the borders of the town. He accelerated even more immediately, now driving 200 as the car made its way towards the edge of the forest where their house was. He didn’t think he was leaving and he needed Luna to prove him wrong. Right now, preferably.

As though to soothe him, Luna paused at a vision of him driving through the country to get to Fleur, Cho and Ginny. The more distance he put between Marcus and himself the better he started to feel according to her. “You’re leaving,” she said matter-of-fact. “Let us out at the beginning of the road. We can hike to the house. Just go find Rodolphus.”  

Draco did as he was told. The car came to a stop with squeaking brakes. Luna got out of the car and was followed by Neville, Zach and Daphne, who didn’t understand much of the conversation they heard other than that Draco needed to find Rodolphus and get out of Port Angeles as soon as possible. The moment Draco wanted to turn the car around and head back into town, however, Luna placed her hands on the window frame of the passenger seat. “Draco. Think about it. He’s eighteen. His father is the chief. Everybody really likes him. He’s a good person.”

If he let her, she would have continued giving him details about Marcus Flint that both of them noticed. She would have mentioned his hazel eyes, his dark brown hair and his tan. She would have said that he knew quite a bit about history and was interested in it. Anything to make him into a person that Draco knew about so he would feel guilty going after him. It was a tactic he knew, because she always did it with Neville too when he had trouble controlling himself. 

He didn’t reply. He knew that Marcus Flint was a human person with friends and a father and a tan and what not. That didn’t change the scent of his blood. The moment that his siblings were out of sight, Daphne complaining as they moved because she didn’t get it, he turned the car around and drove back into the city. He had to drive at a slower pace this time around because there was more traffic on the roads now that the school was out. All students were going home. He parked his car in front of the hospital and went straight to Rodolphus’ office.

It didn’t take long for his father to walk into his office as well. He must have caught Draco’s scent the moment that he walked into the hospital. He could also have heard one, or maybe all three, of the voicemails that Draco left him. It turned out that he heard all three. According to Rodolphus’ thoughts it worried him because he had never heard Draco quite so upset. That was accurate, because Draco was feeling anything but steady.  

Like Luna, Rodophus approached him and wanted to touch him. And just like with Luna, Draco flinched visibly and moved away. Unlike Luna, however, his father didn’t let that discourage him: he moved forward as Draco moved backwards and drew Draco into his arms slowly, even slow for human speed.

“It’s going to be okay,” his father mumbled softly as he rubbed his hands over Draco’s back soothingly. Slowly but surely Draco felt himself calm down and come back to himself. Any thought that he had of killing Marcus Flint slowly but surely faded to the background. That was why he wanted to get to Rodolphus. His father was the voice of reason – and an occasionally annoying voice of reason at that, the buzz kill you sometimes wished you didn’t know – but he was also the person that knew Draco best and always seemed to know exactly what to say.

It wasn’t until Rodolphus seemed convinced that Draco had calmed down that he let go. He took a step back and regarded his son calmly. “What do you want to do?” he asked. “Do you want to leave town with the family? Because we can do that. The others won’t even complain. We’ll just go.”

That was entirely incorrect and Draco rather thought that Rodolphus knew it. “Daphne will complain,” Draco said. “And you know it.” Everyone that knew Daphne knew it.

Rodolphus sighed and nodded then. He had thought of it too, but he prioritized Draco’s well-being and could deal with Daphne’s complaints. “Daphne will complain,” he conceded. “But it doesn’t matter, because what you need is more important than what she wants. She will see that’s the case too.”

Draco shook his head. “Thank you, Dad, but I don’t want our family to leave town. I don’t want to let us be sent away by a human.” It wasn’t fair to the others, for starters. They were only here for two years now and they could be here for years to come. Port Angeles was an ideal place for them. And it also wasn’t fair to himself, because he shouldn’t let a human determine his life this way.

Rodolphus studied him calmly. _But if the alternative is killing the human, then what choice do we have?_ he asked Draco in his thoughts.   _I understand that you don’t want us to go, but I don’t want you to violate the promise you made to yourself after the 1930s._ Draco noticed that he almost used the historical name for that period, the Great Depression, only to stop himself short. It was too much irony for Rodolphus to deal with, he knew. Rodolphus never used the historical name in this particular instance while it was usually an easier indication. Most people knew about names of historical periods – the French Revolution, for instance – but didn’t know when exactly they fell.

The solution seemed simple to Draco. He couldn’t kill the human and he didn’t want to be the cause of his entire family leaving, so that left one thing for him to do. “I’ll leave,” he said. “I’ll go. I’ll take some time to think it through and see what I want to do.”

_Was it really that bad that you have to leave us?_ Rodolphus and him had been apart once since Draco was turned in 1792. It was the same period of the 1930s and it seemed that neither one of them was particularly eager to relive that. They were so used to being around each other that they were used to relying on each other. They had known each other for literal ages and knew what they could count on. Life was just easier with the other around. _I don’t want you to go._ That was something his father couldn’t admit aloud, because it wasn’t for the sake of the human. But Rodolphus couldn’t think of Marcus Flint right now, it seemed.

“I know.” Draco paused briefly. Truth be told he didn’t want to go either. The alternative was worse, though. “But I have to go. For the human."

 


	3. I don't wanna know (Draco)

Draco returned to Port Angeles Sunday night two weeks after he left. He had texted with his siblings and called with Rodolphus and Narcissa, his parents, every now and then, but he mostly just took the time to think and figure out what he wanted to do while he wasn’t in the vicinity of possibly the best-smelling human ever. By the time he returned he didn’t know much more than when he left. But he did know two things. One, he was never going to let a human determine where he was going and what he was doing ever again. And two, if Marcus Flint appeared in Port Angeles to make Draco atone for his sins he was going to deal with it and win.  He was back, but he was back to prove he was stronger than his desire for Marcus Flint’s blood.

Back home in Port Angeles there were two unfortunate surprises waiting for him. The first one was that it had snowed. Draco had long learned that humans had a strange kind of fascination with snow. They thought it was romantic and suddenly felt the need to go out and enjoy the weather whereas they usually stayed inside the entire winter if they could help it. Personally Draco found it impractical at best. Snow made it harder to erase traces and humans were way more accident-prone in the snow, which meant that they too had to act like it bothered them.

The second surprise was the way his siblings were acting. It had been fine the previous night, when Luna, Zach and him indulged in a snow fight while Neville and Daphne had watched. “You’re such children,” Daphne had sighed. Zach simply stuck out his tongue at her when he passed by, Luna threw a snow ball at her that she didn’t see coming and Draco simply smirked at her. Luna went to pull Neville into the show and Zach and Draco watched how Daphne walked inside, shivering theatrically and exchanged a glance before following her inside.

No, it was that morning when they headed towards school in Draco’s car that the unfortunate surprise began. From that point on his siblings were acting like he needed protecting. He didn’t. He survived two revolutions and two world wars (technically, anyway) and he would be fine dealing with a human with distractingly good-smelling blood. A human was nothing more than a nuisance in comparison to what he already lived through. His siblings didn’t agree, though. Luna kept checking both Draco’s and Marcus Flint’s future as though she believed something to go wrong. Zach suggested no less than three times that Draco may as well kill Marcus so he could get it over with instead of torturing himself (such good advice). Daphne was mildly annoyed that everyone’s attention was focused on Draco and made it very clear that she thought it was ridiculous whereas Neville, in turn, was glad that the focus wasn’t on him for a chance.

 _Annoying, isn’t it?_ Neville thought as they got out of the car. Daphne complained to Zach and Luna checked Marcus Flint’s future to see when he would be arriving at school. Draco rolled his eyes heavenward. _I know how it feels. It’s kind of nice that you now know how annoying it is, too._

“Thanks,” Draco replied, grimacing a little. “I’m enjoying this thoroughly.” He really wasn’t. He wished everything would go back to normal as soon as possible. Maybe it would once Marcus Flint arrived and it turned out Draco wasn’t going to attack him in a blind rage.

School was slightly better than being at home, though. At home all Draco did was think about the mystery that Marcus Flint posed. His frustration with Marcus Flint went beyond the scent of his blood. Whereas all humans seemed obsessed with him because he was new – and, according to some of their thoughts, handsome – Draco was frustrated with him because he couldn’t hear the human’s thoughts. He had never experienced that before. The theory that he came up with to soothe himself when he left was that he hadn’t paid attention to Flint’s thoughts because he was too busy with his scent, but he proved that theory wrong when he returned because he still couldn’t hear Flint think. It was what led Draco to ask questions when he first met Flint and it was why Flint was met with radio silence now. But at least at school he had eyes on Flint, whereas at home all he did was wonder.

When Draco and Zach exited French class on Tuesday (Zach and him had both skipped the class on Monday, but the teachers knew better than to comment on it because they always got straight A’s) Luna and Daphne were waiting for them by the door. Neville had already gone to get the car. They were all precautionary measures in case Draco couldn’t resist the temptation that was Marcus Flint’s blood any longer. It was unnecessary, because if Draco could sit next to Flint the entire hour that it took for Binns’ attempts to explain historical episodes he wasn’t going to stop resisting the other now.

As soon as Draco and Zach, as ever the first two to exit the classroom, they joined the girls. Zach and Daphne immediately started chatting about some movie they were going to see that evening – it sounded incredibly human and that may as well be why they were discussing it in the school’s hallway – and Draco joined Luna, who immediately linked her arm with his and smiled at him.

 _I saw it was going to be fine and I was right,_ she thought contently. Draco rolled his eyes at her. There were days that it was annoying to be stuck with a fortune teller for a sister, but he knew how challenging it was for the others at times to be stuck with a mind reader for a brother. _Don’t do that,_ Luna commented on his eye-roll. _I know you wouldn’t have come home and gone back to school with us if you weren’t sure that you could handle it. You did really well._ Despite himself and his annoyance with the situation he smiled briefly at the compliment.

They fell into step behind Daphne and Zach and made their way through the school building slowly among the humans, on their way to the parking lot. To others it would seem like Draco and Luna were quiet, but that wasn’t exactly true. Luna was relaxed and lazily going through different versions of the future of those that she watched the future from. Apparently he would be doing a reread of _Les Misérables_ in French because history class had moved onto the nineteenth century. Rodolphus would be home from the hospital early for a chance, Draco suspected to check on him. Narcissa would be donating food to the homeless shelter, as cooking was a useless hobby of hers. Luna went to check on Daphne’s future after that and Draco zoned out purely out of habit and checked on Neville’s thoughts instead, who was waiting for them in the car.

He was doing a round through the humans’ thoughts to check if Marcus said anything unusual about history class when Luna suddenly stood still in the doorway of the building, shrieked and planted her elbow in his side. Unsure what he did to deserve that, Draco switched back to her thoughts. He was right in time to catch a vision of Marcus. He was standing beneath an overhead roof of the building next to theirs and was checking his phone. Snow had piled up on the extended roof and it seemed that those in charge of maintenance of the building assumed it would just melt during the day, but it hadn’t. Instead, the roof collapsed right as Marcus was about to move away. It caved on him, injuring him critically.

It took one look from Luna at him to make Draco move. The vampire speed that he knew so well not to use around humans set him into motion. He passed by the students in front of them who were also on their way to the parking lot within seconds, coming to a halt beside Marcus right as the disaster in Luna's vision began to unfold. As the roof started to collapse, Draco pulled him forward and out of the way. But Marcus didn't have vampire speed and his reaction was slower, not enough to evade the heavy fall of debris altogether. The edge of the roof caught one of his legs, ripping through his jeans and into his skin.The scent of Marcus’ blood hit Draco immediately. He felt very light-headed and dizzy for a second and it took conscious effort not to hurt Marcus in the way he was holding the other up.

It was necessary to take the risk of pulling the other further away still, to ensure that the roof wouldn't be crushing either one of his legs.That movement only took a tenth of a second, not enough for Marcus to realize what was happening or what Draco was doing. As he pulled Marcus out of the way, what remained of the roof caved in, but didn't hit either one of them. As far as Draco could assess the wound in Marcus’ leg didn’t seem as bad as it could have been, but he didn’t know much about medicine and wounds at all.

“Oh, shit,” Draco breathed very ineloquently. He knew he would never have been fast enough to make sure that Marcus didn’t get injured at all, but at least he saved Marcus from getting buried under the roof and the snow altogether. Marcus, on the other hand, was thinking about very different things. “Where did you come from?”

Draco ignored that question, since it was one that wasn’t helpful in the situation for either one of them. Rather, when Marcus proclaimed ‘ow’ once he realized what had happened Draco moved so the other could sit down on the relatively snow-free pathway and walked around the other, looking him up and down. “The roof must have gotten you when I tried to pull you away,” he said matter of fact. “Are you bleeding?” As if he wasn’t extremely aware of the fact that Marcus was very much bleeding. The only reason he wasn’t leaving right this instant was because he knew it would make the situation even more strange.

Marcus studied the collapsed roof, no more than a pile of rubble now with snow on top of it, right beside them for a second, only to look back up at Draco with a pained face expression. Draco, and it annoyed him to think it, didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on in Marcus’ head. “Yeah, I’m definitely bleeding. I can smell it,” Marcus said. There was no such thing possible as far as Draco was concerned. He could smell it, it was all he didn’t want to think about, but Marcus shouldn’t be able to do so.

Seconds later the other students that came out of the building Draco had his French class in rounded the corner as well, including his siblings. It seemed the immediate reaction of humans to just about anything was to stare at it with their eyes widened and their mouth slightly open. He didn’t have any patience for human nonsense. “Can someone please stop staring and call an ambulance?” he snapped before he turned his attention back to Marcus, kneeling down in front of him. The blood was starting to become visible through the cut of the other’s jeans and he had to work really hard not to look at it and zoom in on it.

“I don’t need an ambulance,” Marcus protested almost immediately. Sure he didn’t. He was only just saved from having an entire roof collapse onto him. As though he couldn’t stay focused on one subject for very long, or perhaps he was trying really hard not to think of the accident (that made two of them), Marcus narrowed his eyes as he looked at Draco. “You weren’t even by me. I didn’t see you. How did you get here so fast?”

Draco knew what to do. He shook his head at the other and sighed. “You don’t remember? I was right behind you. You paused to text so I was going to pass you by, but then the roof was about to collapse so I tried to pull you out of the way. Maybe you didn’t notice because you were texting.”

That was when the P.E. teacher arrived at the scene as well and insisted that he check Marcus over, something that Draco let him do gladly. He stayed by Marcus’ side as the P.E. teacher asked him a bunch of questions about how he was feeling. The hospital and therefore the E.R. were nearby, so it didn’t take long for an ambulance to arrive. Draco made sure to text Rodolphus beforehand, who assured him that he would be on stand-by in the hospital for when Marcus arrived.

That left him time before the ambulance arrived to deal with his siblings. They were standing in the watching crowd and all of them had very different reactions. Daphne was, unsurprisingly, mad at him. Draco started to get a feeling that she liked to be mad at him. _You stupid idiot,_ she called him in her thought when he glanced in her direction. _You’re lucky that no one saw you. This human has made you illogical and I want nothing to do with it or you right now._

Draco suspected Daphne’s reaction was the worst of them all, so Zach’s reaction should be easy to take in comparison. It turned out that Zach’s reaction, albeit very different, was equally as helpful: not at all. _See. The Flint boy is just doomed. Ever since he met you the days he has left are very limited and you’re just trying to prevent something that’s going to happen anyway._ Very briefly, Draco closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Zach just continued. _May as well do it yourself, even if it seems like you really don’t want to. You’re an odd man._

Then there was Neville. Draco suspected that Neville would side with Daphne and he was correct about that. He was gentler in his choice of words, but it came down to the same thing. _You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t interfere with the natural order of things and you can’t compromise our secret by saving a human. And why would you? You don’t even like him. You need to set it straight, Drake._ Between the words ‘interfering with the natural order of things’ and ‘setting it straight’ Draco was pretty sure that Neville had lost it, because all of it was insane. He would not be doing any such thing. Not after he put in so much effort to keep Marcus alive. 

The only one that was on his side, and most likely always would be no matter what he did, was Luna. When he looked at her she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled, as though she had a secret she didn’t want to tell him. _You did the right thing,_ she confided in him seconds afterwards. _You’ll see. Rodolphus will agree with me. I already know it._ Of course she did. The foreseeable future if there ever was one, because Rodolphus’ foremost concern was saving the humans. Their father was very predictable that way.

When the paramedics arrived they insisted that Draco come with them because his father would be worried. Apparently Rodolphus bragged about his children to anyone that would hear it. Of course he did. Well, worried his father would be, but not about Draco’s possible injuries. The ambulance driver offered that he sit with her in the front of the ambulance, and he agreed reluctantly. He followed the other paramedics’ thoughts as they worked to keep the wound on Marcus’ leg closed on the way to the hospital and didn’t speak until they arrived, when he thanked the driver.

When Draco arrived at the hospital Rodolphus was in his office, so it was for the second time that month that Draco made his way there. “Luna already called me and told me what happened in detail,” was the first thing his father said, as soon as Draco closed the door of the office behind him. “It’s okay. You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you.” That was the only thing Draco really cared about, other than having saved Marcus (which was an odd thing to care about). His father’s opinion was always going to be the most important thing to him, other than his own. It didn’t matter all that much what his siblings thought as long as he had Rodolphus on his side.

 Rodolphus looked him up and down like the way he did with patients, something that Draco opted not to comment on. It did make him feel like he was missing something, which was a rather foreign sensation for him. Usually a mind reader wasn’t the person in the room that was clueless, but it seemed he just had to give into it for now. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he admitted shakily. “I didn’t know I cared.” He didn’t care, but he had just saved Marcus Flint’s life at the risk of exposing their secret, which would have had fatal consequences for all of them.  “Neville says that he should have died and Daphne is very mad at me and -”

It was only due to Rodolphus’ thoughts that Draco abruptly stopped talking. _Calm down,_ Rodolphus thought soothingly. _You did the right thing. Neville, Daphne and the others are just scared, but they’ll see it too after we explain it. The boy obviously means something to you. We’ll figure it out as we go._ As far as Draco was concerned there was nothing to figure out, but he had just concluded he was missing something.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I’ll be fine. Can you just go check on him?” Well, this was new. It seemed that he was prioritizing Marcus’ well-being over his own. Luckily Rodolphus got it. His father simply nodded and smiled. He laid a hand on Draco’s hand. _Of course. Just come by later._ With that, Rodolphus left his office to get to the E.R. and it was with a sigh that Draco sat down in the office chair.


	4. Medical diagnosis (Marcus)

Ever since sitting next to Draco Lestrange, Marcus hadn’t been able to help his curiosity about the other. He figured that in that way, he was like almost every other hapless boy or girl that laid eyes on him, and he also figured that the attraction (what else could he call it?) would wear off soon enough. That Draco was absent the day after they sat together in history class was nothing more than coincidence, even if Terence rather pointedly teased him about it. “Lestrange isn’t in, I notice. What did you do to him? He sits next you all of once and he’s gone the next day because he had to socialise like a normal person. Must be the effect of your charm.” Marcus had shaken his head at Terence reprovingly, choosing to ignore the undertone to the last remark. “That’s unkind,” he’d replied. “He might be ill or something.” As two weeks elapsed and the seat beside Marcus remained empty, it seemed that his conjecture was correct. He didn’t have time to dedicate to constantly wondering where Draco was, even if the thought had come and gone every so often despite that; he had to get through classes and try to settle in. He wasn’t going to spend every hour wondering about a boy who yes, was interesting, but also disinterested and very, very absent.

Despite that, everyone knew when Draco was back, and Marcus’ pulse did an annoying and unsteady skip when he saw the other for himself, giving him a shock. _Gotta turn that off somehow_. Then there was the immediate silence in history class compared to the way that they’d talked before; it led Marcus to immediately conclude that the conversation had been a one-time thing and he must have caught Draco on an off-day, because his behaviour now was consistent with how most people described it. Disappointed? Yes, he was a little, and annoyed with himself for that too. It meant that when he went back to his locker to obtain what he needed for homework, he was preoccupied with the text group from back home in Phoenix, friends asking when he was going to come back and visit. ‘I’ve only been gone a few weeks,’ he pointed out. ‘I can’t just go when I feel like it.’ And that reminded him that he wouldn’t be seeing his mom any time soon either, another text that he had to answer because she was worrying, stopping under the shelter of the extended roof as he left the building. ‘Mom, calm down, I’m fine. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?’

Everything that happened after that was a blur. One second, he was standing and texting with his mom. The next, he was being yanked out of the way and a flare of white-hot pain and the noise of something heavy crumbling and collapsing followed, the sound of material ripping. The primary reaction was shock and it was that which meant he stilled where he was. And where Marcus was? Directly in Draco Lestrange’s arms, being held up, aware of pain and the back of his leg slowly soaking his ruined jeans with blood. The minute that the other used the word _ambulance_ and he tried to protest, Draco was having none of it.

Marcus didn’t remember much of the trip to the hospital, mainly because it consisted of people trying to slow down the bleeding. He hadn’t thought it was that bad, but evidently, the injury was deep enough that when Dr Rodolphus Lestrange showed up to look him over. “I’ll check the head injury first, Marcus, but I’m afraid you’re going to need stitching up.” He hadn’t had the chance to be more than momentarily confused ( _I don’t remember hitting my head_ ) before he was being examined, the verdict given that there was some bruising coming up. After that, though, stitches were an inescapable reality. The pin-prick of the needle through numbed skin was almost worse than the pain had been, an unwelcome sensation that made his stomach turn, but the doctor’s steady manner reassured him. “We’re going to keep you in at least for the afternoon, Marcus, just until we’re happy that you don’t have concussion, and that you can walk on that leg without causing further damage. You were very lucky.” He’d paused before answering. “Lucky that Draco got to me fast enough.”

There was the briefest beat, barely a second, but it was there, and that was enough to make Marcus narrow his eyes a little. _What’s the deal there?_ Before he could pursue that line of thought, though, the subject of their conversation showed up and Rodolphus smiled briefly in his son’s direction before leaving. That Marcus was surprised to see Draco there was undeniable, showed in the way he looked at the other and managed a smile. “Hey,” he greeted softly. “You didn’t have to wait, you could have gone home.”

Draco’s movements were easy as he settled in the chair next to the hospital bed Marcus was settled upon. “Hey.” A moment after, the explanation followed, the other leaning back comfortably. “Oh, I did have to wait. My ride home is your doctor. My siblings are feeling uncooperative today.” The words were accompanied by a small smile, more than Marcus had seen out of him since their last real conversation. It didn’t stop Marcus’ follow-up question, something he felt was an obvious thing to ask given the circumstances. “Are you okay? Nothing hit you?”

Draco looked almost puzzled by the line of inquiry, given that Marcus was the one who had required stitches. “I’m fine. I was walking right behind you. I was going to get to the car, so I could warm it up before the others came out.” A shrug accompanied the words. “The roof made this creaking noise before it started to collapse. I got out of the way in time and I pulled you with me.”

At this point, Marcus was mentally settled enough to turn over the events of the past few hours in his head, specifically the instant before the roof collapsed. He hadn’t heard steps, hadn’t even registered there was anyone nearby. The insistence that everyone seemed to be employing concerning a head injury he didn’t remember getting and couldn’t feel was something that nagged at him, bothered him. It was as though he was being told a story that others wanted him to believe. That intensified the more he thought about it. _I didn’t see Draco anywhere near me. He dragged me out of the way in a few seconds. I was right under it. He shouldn’t have been able to._ “I’m sorry you had to wait, in that case,” he offered. “I didn’t even hear you, or the roof, for that matter.” He’d admittedly been distracted, but something about the situation still didn’t feel right. “I’ll just have to be more careful in future, if the school buildings are going to literally try to kill me.” Meeting Draco’s eyes, he chose his next words carefully, hazel meeting grey. “Thank you for getting me out of the way. Your timing is uncanny. Did you get checked over too?”

The reply was instantaneous. “You’re welcome. Yes, the paramedics insisted that my father should check me over because my dad would worry. Apparently, he talks about his children a lot.” There was a faint note of exasperation to that statement. “I’m good, I was just worried about you. You did hit your head, after all.”

Leaning back, Marcus studied Draco, honestly puzzled, his words a moment later blunter than he wanted them to be before he could stop himself. _“_ Talking about me hitting my head isn’t going to convince me it actually happened when I know that it didn’t. I’m fine.” Shifting a little where he sat, he winced; hope that he could leave soon might well be eternal, but the effects of painkillers clearly were not. It was also a reminder that _fine_ might be a bit of an exaggeration.

That was the point where Draco frowned at him. “You sound concussed,” he said, frowning at Marcus. “I’m saying that’s what happened because it did. I was there. I was more there than you were if this is anything to go by.”

Marcus glared at Draco briefly, but he knew at this point that he was being stubborn. “Doctor’s opinion would indicate that I’m in possession of all my faculties until proven otherwise,” he countered pointedly. “But since you’re so determined it happened, fine. I hit my head and we’ll drop the subject.” _There’s nothing wrong with my head apart from the fact that you’re messing with it, and I don’t know why._ Draco was a mystery to him and the conversation wasn’t helping, because he couldn’t figure the other out. “I don’t get it. You’ve talked to me all of once, but you also just pushed me out of the way of something really dangerous at a risk to yourself.” The question of why the other would be worried, with that in mind, was on the tip of his tongue, before he felt a pang of conscience. _Maybe he’s just being kind. Maybe he’s just a better person than you are._ “I mean, I’m grateful, but it makes me wonder about you. I think there’s a lot more to you than you let people see.” _Or maybe you just don’t want them to look that closely._

Draco’s expression softened, and Marcus watched as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded beneath his chin, naturally graceful. “Marcus,” he said, tone matching the way he looked just then, suddenly gentle, “just because I’m a very anti-social being doesn’t mean I want anyone to get injured or would let that happen when I can prevent it.” Draco paused briefly. “You can wonder, if you like.”

Marcus’ confusion only grew ever sharper as the other spoke, not able to reconcile the silent treatment that he’d received with the suddenly forming person in front of him. That was the difference between distance and discussion, it seemed, and the invitation to wonder as well was out of the blue. “I can’t exactly help it,” he responded, taking him in. “One minute you’re talking to me in History class, the next you come back after being gone for days and ignore me completely, and then you’re saving my life. A little nought to one hundred, don’t you think?”

The other didn’t exactly answer the question, instead regarded Marcus with very evident amusement and neatly side-stepped it by changing the subject. “That’s how I do things these days, apparently. I can give you another medical diagnosis you don’t want, by the way,” he said. “It’s your right leg that got injured, so you can’t drive. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you my number and when you feel good enough to go to school again, I can be your chauffeur. What do you think?”

Marcus sighed at first because he was right, but then hazel eyes widened when Draco offered him a ride. “I can’t keep up with you,” he said eventually, and confusion laced the words. “First you say you’re anti-social, now you’re going to give me your number and a ride to school?” The contradiction was unmistakable, and it should have been odd. Instead, it held a strange draw of its own. “I guess I can definitely add _kind_ to the list of things I was wondering about when it comes to you,” he continued softly. “If you really don’t mind it? Then thank you. It’ll save me from bothering my dad about it.”

Right after that, he realised what he’d said, entire body freezing. “Oh, _shit_. My dad. Please tell me no one called him yet?” He knew it was unlikely, the school had to notify parents when something happened, but he could hold out hope. It wasn’t until Draco mentioned he’d been texting that he also realised his father wasn’t the only one likely to flip out. _Awesome_. The odds were good that it’d take him an hour to talk his mother out of booking him the first flight back to Phoenix. He hadn’t made the (already difficult) choice to come here only to have her try to undo all of his efforts. The other didn’t get the chance to respond to what Marcus had said, because it was a literal case of saved by the bell, a voice from the doorway. “What the hell happened?”

Chief Flint had arrived right on cue, and it wasn’t until Dr Lestrange had followed him back into the room and calmed him down that he and Draco got the chance to exchange phone numbers. It was recommended that he take it easy for a couple of days, which meant no school, something that he’d seen coming a mile off. Draco and his father quietly left the room while Marcus endured the interrogation and the muttering of _God knows what your mother is going to say_. “I’m okay, Dad,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just my leg.” _It could’ve been much worse_.


	5. Basket case (Draco)

Draco came home to a riot that evening. A riot actually seemed to be an understatement to describe the way that Daphne, Zach and Neville were yelling at him when he walked into the kitchen after his return from the hospital, followed by Rodolphus. He met Narcissa’s gaze briefly, who was sitting at the kitchen table with Luna. _I tried to calm them down,_ she told him in her thoughts. _But they don’t understand what happened any more than you do._ Seeing as he was the one who did something he still didn’t understand, he should be the one yelling. His siblings made it all about themselves when it really wasn’t.

It was Rodolphus that got them to shut up at last. “Knock it off,” he said with a raise of his voice. Their father never raised his voice, so they all went quiet abruptly. “Sit down. We’re going to discuss this like reasonable people and not like the animals that you’re behaving like right now.”

“But he -” Daphne started almost immediately, glaring in his direction angrily.

Rodolphus silenced her with one look. It seemed as though Rodolphus’ already dark eyes had turned black momentarily, enough to make even Daphne back down. She was the most stubborn one of all of them by far, but even she knew to take a clue so obvious as that one. Daphne was the first one to sit down at the table, but at the other end from where Luna and Narcissa were sitting. Zach followed her lead after glaring at Draco shortly. Neville didn’t sit, but stood still behind Daphne.

“Let’s sit down,” Rodolphus told him softly. The hand of his father on his back directed him to a nearby chair, the one next to Luna’s, where he sat down. Rodolphus sat down on his other side. From where he was sitting Draco glanced towards his three siblings opposing him briefly. They thought he betrayed them. He would be throwing things at them if he thought any of them betrayed him.

“I know what you think,” literally and otherwise, “and what you think isn’t true. I didn’t risk giving away our secret. No one saw me. They all think I was walking behind Marcus and managed to pull him away because he wasn’t paying attention and I was.”

Daphne exchanged a glance with Zach and shook her head now. “For a mind-reader you’re surprisingly inaccurate,” she said.  “None of us are thinking that. Of course the humans at school didn’t notice. They’re an ignorant bunch of idiots that only think about themselves.” She would know. It seemed like that thought was written all over her face, because she seemed even more mad at him now.  He could hardly help it that she essentially described herself, though.

“It’s odd that you don’t get it, though,” Zach unhelpfully commented. He didn’t seem so mad at Draco at all. He was just sitting with Daphne because he was supposed to side with her. “It’s obviously about your new obsession, man. Marcus Flint. Our entire lives at school are scheduled around him and I can recognize the face you pull when you think about him.”

This was the time to be offended by all this. “I’m not obsessed with Marcus Flint,” he protested. “He is the bane of my existence due to his scent and I’m tracking his moves at school so he doesn’t show up out of the blue and surprise me enough for me to murder him.” He didn’t understand why he was being glared at the way he was by Daphne and Neville. “What?” he asked. “Do you want me to murder him?” He didn’t need to hear Daphne’s thoughts to know how she felt about that, because her face expression said it all. “Do not answer that.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Daphne said on a fake cheerful tone. “You haven’t answered the question we’re all thinking of, which means you’re either missing it because you’re acting like an idiot or you’re ignoring it because you don’t want to deal with it. Is your human toy going to tell anyone what happened? We all heard the conversation. He knows you weren’t walking behind him.”

Technically Draco was walking behind him, but not directly behind him. He was too offended to point that out, though. “Do not call him my human toy,” he snarled at her. “He’s not going to tell anyone. I told him he was welcome to wonder, but he’ll never figure it out.”

“You told him he was welcome to wonder?” Daphne repeated incredulously. “What were you thinking? You don’t know whether or not he’s going to figure it out, but now he’s going to try. What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with you?” Draco countered. “What makes you think that any human is going to figure out what we are? That’s some top-shelf sci-fi nonsense right there, Daphne. It’s the thing that TV series are made of these days. No human will entertain the thought that those creatures are real.”

“So your certainty that Marcus won’t tell is based on the idea that it’s too much science fiction?” Daphne asked, raising her eyebrows before she sighed exasperatedly. “Okay. We have to move because I give it three days before Flint comes to the correct conclusion.”

Draco sighed as well and looked aside at Rodolphus in the hopes that his father had something more useful to say than he did. Luckily Rodolphus was someone that he could always count on. “This is all hypothetical,” his father reminded them all. “We don’t know if Flint will figure it out. And even if he does, it’s just as likely that he’ll keep the secret. He seems to have taken to Draco. It’s likely he’ll trust Draco enough to bring it up.”

“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” Neville replied with a light shake of his head. He was glaring at Draco again. “We can’t gamble with our lives like this. He’s a threat to our existence.” In front of him Daphne nodded. Zach, on the other hand, sighed a little and shook his head at Draco afterwards. _I don’t think you’re going to be able to save Marcus Flint a third time, friend._ Draco raised his eyebrows as though to say ‘try me.’

“Listen to me very closely,” Draco said as he moved to stand up. “I’m only going to say this once and it’s not up for discussion. No one is doing so much as laying a finger on Marcus Flint.”

“You can’t just say things like that -” Daphne started.

“You don’t get to decide something that impacts all of us -” Neville protested at the same time.

But it was Rodolphus that ignored both of them and was the one that was listened to. “I agree,” he simply said. “Draco did well keeping the human alive so far. You should be proud of him instead of opposing him. So you heard him. No one touches Marcus Flint.”

Both Daphne and Neville were now glaring at Rodolphus angrily. Draco, relieved that his father chose his side over theirs, sunk back down on his chair and closed his eyes briefly. The worst of this conversation should have passed now. He really needed some time alone to figure out what his deal with Marcus was, because he still didn’t know it.

“It’s going to be fine,” Luna said suddenly. She sounded remarkably cheerful. “I just saw it. He’s not going to tell anyone about how fast Draco got to him. He trusts Draco. We have nothing to worry about. So you can stop being mad at Draco. He didn’t mean any harm and it’s not going to do any harm either.”

The silence that followed that remark puzzled Draco. When not Daphne nor Zach said anything he looked towards Luna, but she was avoiding his eyes and currently going through Rodolphus’ future, which Draco did not see the significance of under the circumstances. When he looked at Narcissa she smiled warmly. Rodolphus just reached out to touch his hand briefly. The feeling that he was missing something started to get incredibly prevalent. At last he looked at Neville, who was just as puzzled about Luna’s sudden remark as he was.

 _She’s hiding something,_ Neville’s thoughts told him. _She can’t look either one of us in the eye. I bet that she’s very busy with someone else’s future right now._ That was a surprisingly good guess, since Luna was very interested in the books Rodolphus would look through tonight for his research paper. Draco nodded at Neville briefly in an answer. _Ask her,_ Neville urged him. _Whatever it is, we all need to know it and she’s only dragging it out._

“Luna?” Draco asked. “What is it?”

 _Nothing,_ she replied in her thoughts and shook her head a little. _There’s nothing you have to worry about. It’s going to be fine. I just saw it. He’s not –_

“Going to tell anyone about how fast I got to him,” Draco filled in the last of her thought dryly. “You’re only repeating yourself when you’re hiding something. Out with it.”

Luna sighed deeply. She looked up from where she had been staring at the table for at least the past minute and looked him in the eye slowly. Then she thought the three unthinkable words. _You love him._

Draco stood up so fast that his chair fell over. The sound of the chair hitting the ground disturbed everyone’s thought pattern. He could see his own bewildered face expression from five different angles, since the only one not looking at him was Luna. Luna was looking at Neville and was going through Draco's future again.

 _Finally,_ she thought contently. _You’re been blocking my visions with your determined avoidance of the subject, but now I can see it again. And I’m right. You have feelings for him. And he does for you, too, in case it wasn’t clear. You make such a cute couple._

“Luna,” Draco interrupted her. “Shut up. Just – Shut the hell up.” He wasn’t one to curse often, if at all, so he was rightfully being stared at again after he told his sister to stop the way he did. Even Luna was looking at him, but she only did some to give him a side-eye. She was smiling way too brightly. He was fine with her being the calm in a crisis, but this was her enjoying his crisis.

 _I can’t help it,_ she thought. _Just look at your future. You’ll get it._ With that, she showed him the flashes of his future with Marcus Flint that she had apparently been hiding from him. She wanted him to draw the conclusion himself and he hadn’t. Marcus was hanging out in Draco’s room in their house. It seemed they were doing homework. Marcus was talking to Luna in the school cafeteria, sitting next to Draco and in his personal space. Draco was driving his Volvo: he had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand was holding Marcus’ hand.

 _I told you,_ she thought, the words soft and gentle now. _But it’s going to be okay. You don’t have to worry because you can do this. He wants you to. You’ll see._ She thought that way too often.

“No,” he replied. “Definitely not. Absolutely not.” He didn’t love Marcus Flint. He wasn’t in love with the bane of his existence. Luna, however, couldn’t disagree more: she just rolled her eyes at him. Beside them Rodolphus and Narcissa exchanged a glance. He wondered if both of them already figured it out as well. It wouldn’t surprise him.

At the other side of the table there were three people that didn’t know it yet, though. Daphne groaned, clearly annoyed. Neville looked at Luna questioningly, but she didn’t say a word. Zach seemed exasperated.  
  
“Can someone please tell us what’s going on?” Zach asked what all three of them were thinking. “Because I don’t get it and I don’t actually think anyone else does either.”


End file.
